Roswell Redux
by JoBelle
Summary: Is Alex REALLY dead?!?!?!?
1. Prologue

Title: Roswell Redux  
Author: JoBelle  
Email: jod21@tstt.net.tt  
Disclaimer: None of these peeps are mine, if they were I sure as hell wouldn't KILL THEM OFF Jason!!!!   
Author's Notes: Hmmm...I'd set this a little bit after "Cry Your Name", major spoilers for that and everything that came b4 it *S*  
  
  
"Izzy honey are you sure you're okay?" Diane Evans' voice called from behind the closed door. On the bed Isabel stared at the light oak wood impassively. Yes she knew it was unhealthy for her to spend all her time crying, but why couldn't her mother just leave her alone. She didn't have a clue what was going on in Isabel's life.   
  
It wasn't just a friend who had died it was the one boy who knew her secret and didn't look at her like she was a freak, her one shot at human normality for however long it lasted, it was the worrying about the skins and other hostile forces from their home world attacking them, it was the fear that it had been Kivar or Nicholas who had orchestrated Alex's death, it was the constant stress of having to hide her heritage from everyone around her, it was all that and a thousand other things and Isabel figured after an entire lifetime as the stoic ice-princess she deserved to be allowed to have her nervous breakdown in peace.   
  
She loved her mother, really she did, she loved her even more for caring so much about her but enough was enough all she wanted was to be left in peace for one hour, was that so much?   
  
"Izzy?" The voice was now her dad's and it was followed by a knock.  
  
"I'm fine Daddy, I'm just tired is all." She called hoping that would be enough.  
  
"Would you like me to bring you some soup honey? There's chicken and stars in the cupboard," her mom again.  
  
"No thanks Mom I'm fine." She replied with a roll of her hazel eyes. 'I'm not sick mom,' she shouted in her head at the closed door.  
  
"Alright sweetie well there's plenty of stuff in the kitchen if you feel like a snack later." Mrs. Evans' worried voice came again and there was some whispering outside.  
  
"Okay Mom." She acknowledged and finally, finally there were footsteps padding down the carpeted hall away from her room.   
  
  
"Thank God!" She whispered as her eyes fell from the door to the book in her lap, her fingers traced his grinning face in the year book, those ears that slightly stuck out, the blue, blue eyes that were grey in the black and white photo, that lovable puppy dog smile of his that always melted her heart stared back at her from beneath her fingers and with a little cry of anguish Isabel flipped over onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillow as the tears came once again. Eventually she cried herself to sleep, her fingers still resting on Alex's image.  
  
TBC...  
  
if I get sufficient reviews *S* 


	2. The Dream

Isabel entered the dreamscape without realizing it, and like all the times before in recent memory, he was there, waiting for her. This time he was sitting on that boulder in the woods, the one they'd stargazed on together. She took her previous position next to him, laying her head on his shoulder and tried to ignore the fact that she'd shot him down here, tried to not remember the crestfallen look on his face when she'd told him she only wanted to be friends.   
  
  
"It's really clear tonight isn't it." He spoke, breaking the silence first. "You can almost see the milky way." he pointed with his left index finger, squinting off into the distance.  
  
"Yeah." She agreed, her voice sounding hoarse from all the sobbing of the last few days.  
  
"You okay Iz?" He queried, looking concerned.  
  
"Yeah." She sighed. "I just can't get used to you being...." her voice trailed off.  
  
"I know." He replied comfortingly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "It wouldn't be so bad if Nicholas weren't here. Everyone else pretty much ignores me but Nicholas..." he trailed off.  
  
"Nicholas? What are you talking about Alex?" She asked turning to him in confusion.  
Alex rolled his eyes to himself. "You know, you wouldn't think I'd have to explain myself in my own dreams." He thought out loud.  
  
"Alex..." Isabel began hesitantly, really confused now.  
  
"Nicholas, guy keeping me hostage. Really Isabel I don't want to talk about it in my dream, I'd rather sit here and stargaze with you." He explained and tried to tilt her gaze back to the heavens above them but she would not be deterred.  
  
"Alex. How often is it that you can control what happens in your dreams?" She asked him seriously.  
  
The boy thought about it, scratching his head, narrowing those blue, blue, eyes in concentration until realization dawned in them.  
  
"Isabel...you're not...you're not saying what I think you're saying are you?" Alex demanded.  
  
Isabel opened her mouth to reply when suddenly he was no longer there. "Alex?" She called getting up off the log and walking a little ways closer to the woods. "Alex where are you?"   
It was then she caught sight of a dark haired fourteen year old boy grinning evilly at the much taller elder teenager who was strapped down to a gurney. Nicholas looked up, catching Isabel's eyes and smiled a slow smile full of malice and hate and whispered two words. "Soon Vilandra." before redirecting his attention to the boy on the table. 


	3. Awakening

"ALEX!"   
  
Max Evans sat bolt upright in bed, his sister's blood curdling scream startling him out of the first deep sleep he'd had in weeks. Jumping out of bed, he was in Isabel's room in seconds, flicking on the light and anxiously searching for any reason for her cries, their mother and father hot on his heels.   
  
  
Isabel flung herself into his arms as he sat on the edge of the bed, clinging to her brother for dear life. Diane and Phillip Evans looked questoningly at Max who could only shake his head at them equally confused as Isabel continued to sob into his neck.   
  
"I'll talk to her." Max promised his parents softly and they nodded, his father leading his mother out of the room, a worried look on both their faces.  
  
"Iz, Izzy," Max gently disengaged from his sister, ducking his head to look at her face. "Iz? What's the matter?"  
  
Isabel took in a deep breath, calming down form her violent sobs. "It was Alex." She whispered, obviously fighting tears.  
  
"What about him Izzy?" Max asked, the old childhood nickname falling unconsciously from his lips.  
  
"He...he...oh God Max!" She burst into fresh tears, burying her face in his shirt.  
  
"What's the matter Izzy?" Max asked, his worry increasing at his sister's frantic sobs.  
  
"He's alive..." she whispered. 


	4. Midnight Conversations

"He's WHAT?" Michael demanded in a stage whisper. "Look Maxwell, you and I both know Isabel's taking this pretty hard, we all are, but couldn't she have just had a dream?"   
  
  
"I know Michael, I've thought of that, but she seems so sure and you know we only stumbled upon dream walking by accident, how do we know for sure she did just dream it?" Max replied softly, careful not to disturb Isabel who had finally cried herself to sleep a few minutes before.  
  
  
  
"Okay so what now?" Michael asked, staring into Isabel's slumbering face.  
  
"Now, we let her rest for a little while and have her try to dreamwalk him tomorrow night."  
  
"Good idea. Listen Max, I don't think we should tell any of the others until we're sure of what she knows."  
  
Max nodded, stroking Isabel's hair as she whimpered in her sleep. "You're right. It would be cruel to get their hopes up for nothing."  
  
"Okay well unless you need anything else, I'm gonna get back before Maria wakes up and realizes I'm gone."   
  
"Okay. Thanks for coming Michael. I needed to talk this out with someone."  
  
Michael gave a short nod. "Hey, what are second in comands for?" He smiled and turned to climb back out the window then turned back.  
  
"Take care of her Maxwell." He said nodding at their sister.  
  
"Of course." Max replied. 


	5. Chapter 5

Michael turned the keys in the ignition of the jetta and listened to the engine come to life, driving slowly down the block as to avoid waking everyone.  
  
  
  
Maria just shut down. That's the thing he remembers most about that day and the next few after it. After Max told them Alex was dead. She just could not deal with it, with anything. She just completely collapsed, she wouldn't eat, she'd barely speak, it was like the spark, the fire that was Maria had just snuffed out. He remembers that, that was what scared him the most those few days. Not that maybe it was a skin that had killed Alex or even that his mortality had been brought into question, it was that Maria wasn't Maria. She just cried or slept or curled up in his arms and buried her face in his shoulder as if suddenly the world she'd loved was no longer the same place, as if it were too horrible for her to bear. She was just now coming back to herself a little he couldn't bear it if she were to relapse into that monosyllabic zombie and so he would keep this from her. Let her yell and scream and rage at him if it turns out Isabel wasn't just dreaming, he'd deal with it all then.  
  
  
  
Ten minutes later he crept back into the Deluca household through the window he'd left it from and had barely flopped down on the couch when Maria's door creaked open down the hallway and her blond head became visible peeking around the corner. Michael waved her over and she smiled, trailling her blanket behind her as she traipsed over to the couch, settling on her side she pulled his arm around her waist and snuggled into him. He tugged her closer with the arm around her middle before lacing their fingers, and set about moving the tousled blonde locks away from her face, stroking them back gently, combing his long fingers through the honey coloured strands he soothed her off to sleep. Dropping a kiss on her forehead, Michael laid his head down next to hers on his pillow and slowly drifted off.  
  
  
  
Alex Whitman tossed and turned restlessly on his small cot, his feet hanging over the edge, his long thin legs twisted in his one blanket as he kicked out at unseen attackers in his sleep. Two figures stepped out of the shadows, one a fourteen year old boy, who smiled maniacally as he turned to his counterpart a tall man with smooth light brown hair and tattoos running up and down his arms. "We lucked out tonight." He crowed triumphantly to his companion. "Vilandra accidentally dreamwalked him, making our connection twice as strong. She's beginning to figure it out." Nicholas grinned evilly down at the sleeping teen, "I knew you'd make great bait." he chuckled, kicking the bedframe as he passed it on the way out. 


End file.
